


Each other's

by Houseofmalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 03:17:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17093024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houseofmalfoy/pseuds/Houseofmalfoy
Summary: He wasn't hers. She wasn't his. Still they were each other's. Always.





	Each other's

He didn’t propose to her with any grand gestures or with a romantic speech he’d prepared. When he asked her to marry him he didn’t even have a ring on him. That’s what she liked about it. 

He’d asked her when they were halfway through a shared bottle of firewhiskey, late at night in the slytherin common room in a few armchairs apart from the rest of their group. After Antonin Dolohov had walked past and she’d laughed at him when they both not-so-subtly checked him out. 

“We should get married.”

She’d been surprised and had stayed silent for a few seconds only, then she’d shrugged and taken the bottle from him. “You got it.”

 

It worked. A marriage based on the mutual understanding that romance was out of the picture. They made a show of kissing in public; they danced together in complicated manners on any pureblood gala they were inevitably invited to; they laughed each time Witch Weekly said what a perfect couple they were.

They joined Voldemort together and as Bella’s obsession grew he shrugged off all comments he got. “I’m not worried, I know she loves me more.”

She didn’t. He didn’t care.

They argued--explosive fights that had them both yelling at the top of their lungs and accidental magic breaking the windows--about anything and nothing, things they didn’t really care about. War was stressful and alcohol and fighting helped. At the end of the day they would calm down and share a bottle of firewhiskey, any below the belt comments about the Dark Lord and Antonin Dolohov long forgotten. 

He wanted children, she didn’t but knew she would. Pureblood rules: continuing the line. After the war, they promised.

That never happened. He hated it, she didn’t care: the Dark Lord was more important.

 

Voldemort fell and Bella went with him. She lost it and not even Rodolphus could stop it from happening. He remembered nothing of that fatal night, she did every detail. He’d been drunk of alcohol, she of desperation.

He took the fall with her; she pleaded guilty before he could stop her and with that sealed his and his brother’s fate too.

 

Azkaban destroyed them both in ways that couldn’t be more different from each other. Bellatrix came out a force of nothing but destruction; he didn’t care anymore.

They fought like never before: yelling and cursing until they both bled or Narcissa (god bless her) stopped them. Rodolphus enraged at her recklessness and more blind than ever loyalty; Bellatrix furious at the lack of dedication to the cause the dementors had left in him. 

He knew she was destined to die. Maybe that’s why he didn’t care their friendship was being destroyed.

There was no way she’d leave this war alive. She’d die fighting for their Lord and it was useless to try and stop her.

They still drank together: he much more than she did. The only times he saw anything other than the rage she seemingly carried around everywhere she went.

When she inevitably died he mourned her still. Even if her death had been coming and even if he knew it’d happened precisely in the way she’d have wished: fighting alongside her master; his last soldier standing. 

He mourned her, or the idea of her. The friendship they’d cherished in the first war and torn apart in the second, the nights of drinking til they both puked and even the fights that in some way had been the perfect form of entertainment. 

She’d never been really his just as he’d never really been hers, but in a way they’d always be.

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
